


The Harvest Day Hack

by ArgentDandelion



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, Fiction, Gen, Holidays, Post-Deltarune Chapter One, Sibling Bonding, Thanksgiving Dinner, Undertale Saves and Resets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26342113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentDandelion/pseuds/ArgentDandelion
Summary: It’s Harvest Day, a day of feasting with family and thanks-giving for bountiful harvests. But Asriel still hasn’t shown up for the holiday…and Kris is helpless to their own soul’s whims.
Relationships: Asriel Dreemurr & Kris (Deltarune)
Kudos: 7





	The Harvest Day Hack

“Hello.”

“Ah, is Asriel here already?”

“No.”

The two stood awkwardly at the doorway, Asgore hunching over. No matter how many scrapes collected at the lintel, Toriel never expanded the door. Not then…not now.

Asgore glanced past her. “Oh! Kris, would you mind letting your dad in?” he said with a smile. Kris nodded, and Toriel, still glaring, stepped aside.

Suddenly, Asgore engulfed Kris in his arms, wiggling them about as their legs dangled. But then he gasped, too soon, sheepishly set them down. “I…forgot if you like hugs like that.” Asgore said, Toriel still glaring.

But then Kris’ head butted into their father’s belly, their arms wrapping around him. Asgore knelt down and hugged Kris back. The embrace felt firm, a little _too_ firm, as if their father feared….feared…

That pressure on their ribcage didn’t matter.

\----

 _Ring._ _Ring._ _Ring._

A tasteful orange tablecloth covered a table set with fancy glasses and proper silverware: the perfect Harvest Day tableau. The four chairs were arranged at the table, just as it should be.

“Asriel?” Toriel said, the phone tucked under her ear. “Asriel, dear, where are you? We’re all set up and waiting for you.” Asgore poured water into the four glasses, his mouth tight. Kris set out silverware by Asgore, their expression unreadable.

The minutes passed, and Toriel called again. Still no luck. She gazed over the table and grimaced. Everything was in place, from all the cutlery to the artfully-arranged foodstuffs. The three reluctantly sat down in two normal-sized chairs and one of the two small ones.

Something weighed heavily in Kris’s chest as they sat. They looked longingly at the other small chair: Asriel’s chair. The one that had long been too _small_ for him…

_Though he may be absent, the power of cooler older brothers still shines within you._

Kris gasped, a feeling of outright dread building up as their heart—no, their SOUL—pounded inside them. _No. No no…_

\----

Just a couple times in, the words were starting to sound stale.

“Responsible? _Responsible_? You cannot even sell a _single_ flower.”

The turkey was growing cold.

“I…I would rather not, it is so nice to receive flowers for free—”

The sweet potatoes were growing cold.

“How are you even in the flower-selling business? This foolishness has gone on long enough.”

Right on cue…right as before…the flames started.

Heavy was the head of the Flower King as he spoke. "I like flowers. And it is not foolish to be kind—”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. It is nothing but wilful incompetence, _Dreemurr_.”

The turkey was perfect, but it still felt as if smoke coiled around the table. As much as they wanted to open their mouth…what would it matter if they could? They would still suffocate in the smoke coiling up from their mother’s mouth.

Their father’s face was shadowed. Distantly, Kris heard the chair shoved back from the table, and their father’s heavy footsteps….

…and then, the soft click of the door closing. A few moments of quiet.

Then _again_.

\----

Asgore looked askance at Kris.

"Well, we could always try eating without Asriel. He will show up.”

The table was set with delicious foods, but Kris had no appetite. Their body said nothing.

“He deserves a proper Harvest Day, and we can all bear to a wait a little longer.” Toriel replied, her expression tense. The room’s warm orange light felt like a slowly-building house fire.

Talking. Yelling. Leaving.

 _Again_.

\----

Asgore looked askance at Kris.

“Well, we could always try eating without Asriel. He will show up.”

This time, Kris’s head nodded. And yet…still no appetite.

“Kris, dear…you would not like it if we started eating without you, would you?”

What did their father even eat? A single _pickle_ , in that bare fridge? Nothing could wash out the taste of that unnamed, bitter blend of emotions in their mind.

Toriel stared blankly at Kris, her fingers twitching. “Fine. Fine.” The words shot out of her mouth like bullets, their target unknown. Kris would have flinched, if they could. What had their body done? Did it nod? What did Toriel mean?

Toriel lifted the carving knife with a look of disdain, and…

_Again._

_\----_

Kris’s throat felt tight. It was a horrible miracle they could choke down any food at all.

Then Asgore put on a big, fake smile. “I guess now it’s _Kris_ eating you out of house and home! Hahaha!”

Toriel glared at him, stood up…

And threw the whole turkey at him!

….but it wasn’t funny.

\----

Always, it started with them sitting awkwardly, quietly, at that table that somehow felt both empty and cramped. No matter what, someone would glance at that little chair, the one too small for Asriel, the one too _uncomfortable_. Then, inevitably, someone spoke, feebly trying to cut that suffocating silence. Then someone spoke back, and then Toriel started raising her voice, and then Asgore left. And then…the door clicked. And the world would reset that miserable script.

Kris found themselves at the table again, at that point where there were only subtle signs of tension: only a furrow in Toriel’s brow, and only a quirk on Asgore’s lips.

But there was no relief any more. And through it all…they could not move. They could not speak.

Could not even cry.

“Kris…”

The name didn’t really matter any more, did it? If only it could be someone else’s name… someone else’s body stolen from them…

“Kris, are you alright? You’re crying.” Toriel leaned over in concern. From the side of the table, Asgore looked at them with a frown and wide eyes. Kris reflexively wiped away a tear.

Kris stopped. They stared at one of their hands. That…that was by them. Their hand. Their movement. Their _tears_.

But how long would it last?

“Oh, Kris…”

Two burly arms embraced again, and suddenly…the tears came pouring out. Kris tilted their head, and their bangs draped over their eyes. With only a slight pause, Toriel walked around the table and leaned over, hugging Kris too.

Kris cried all the harder, sniffling.

Why? Why so much, why now?

“It’s okay, Kris.” Asgore said.

“Asriel will come eventually.” Toriel said.

Suddenly, Kris’s eyes went wide. They broke out of their parents’ grip, the chair scudding.

“Oh? Did you hear him at the door?” Asgore asked.

A manic grin split Kris’s face, and they started shaking. They tilted their gaze like a bull about to charge, their bangs drooping even more.

“It’s all right. You can greet him first, if you would like.” Toriel said.

_“NO.”_

The two monsters stared at Kris in shock. Kris’s breathing got faster and faster.

“Kris—”

Kris ran out.

Their footsteps beat a quick rhythm on the streets. Their path was lit only by the lights of their neighbors’ houses, and the autumn leaves crunched as they ran.

After an eternity and but an instant, they found themselves at the edge of town. Kris slowed down, walking aimlessly, their head bowed. Shadows stretched across the street from the sporadically-placed streetlights. A few paces away was the bus stop, now just a half-lit, rectangular blob.

Suddenly, Kris heard a sharp mechanical hiss. A bus. They looked up numbly to find pale fur shining inside it.The bus’s doors closed, and the figure said something, something drowned out by a diesel roar as the bus sped away.

Kris shivered, looking down again. “Kris!” the figure repeated, so much closer. Yes…that was the word hidden under the roar.

Though the bus’s lights faded into the distance, Kris could still tell who the figure was.

Not a lot of people were tall, white-furred horned monsters.

Kris’ hair slid back as they looked up. “Kris…I’m sorry. My phone ran out of charge, and it wouldn’t charge up again fast enough. And one of the buses I took to get here had some kind of freak accident…and since lots of people were using long-distance buses today, it took a while to get on another one.”

Tears glimmered at Kris’ eyes as Asriel hugged them. Their cooler older bro was so soft and comforting, just like a teddy monster. And although Asriel’s arms scrawnier than their father’s, his hugs somehow felt so much better, and unburdened by emotions Kris couldn’t name.

“If I could have gotten here sooner, I would.

Let’s go home.”

\----

“Oh, Asriel!”

Kris saw their mother make a genuine smile. How long had it been since she had smiled like that?

“I know, I’m late. One of the buses had a freak accident…”

“And you brought Kris, too! You know, Kris had run off earlier…I am glad you are here to bring them home.”

That tone _snapped_ something inside Kris—their mouth clenched. Their muscles tensed. Their blood _boiled_.

“You always were the _responsible_ one.”

Asriel looked over at Kris, startled. “Uh, Kris?” Asriel asked. “What’s wrong?”

Kris walked back to their room with their shoulders hunched, trying to hide an unsettling grin.

 _Mutter mutter mutter._ “Asriel, you have been gone so long…”

How quickly their relief drained away, like a shower drain without any clogs of white fur.

_Hey the trash can smells nice, does it?, this turkey is delicious Mom, did Kris get enough, they didn’t want to eat, I hope there are some leftovers because this is your best cooking yet wouldn’t want them to miss out…_

Kris sat on their beige, undecorated bed, trying in vain to relax their closed fists. They tried to control their breathing. They failed.

_Where’s Dad, he left early, do you think there’s enough for four people, if he wants to come over he can…._

“Don’t forget—there’s still some pumpkin pie!” Toriel exclaimed sweetly, as if pie would fix _anything_. Kris gave up. They laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, their fists still clenched, their breathing still unsteady. The ebbs and flow of the two’s conversation soon degenerated from the chatter of strangers to nothing more than birdsong—meaningless. Or, at least, to those not of their own kind…

Eventually, the chatter ceased. Footsteps scuffled the carpet, and a door clicked. The silence roared in Kris’s ears, unopposed, inescapable.

 _Clang_.

“Kris?”

They turned around to see Asriel silhouetted in the doorway. The red soul glowed like an unsettling nightlight.

“What…what are you doing?”

Kris frowned and covered the birdcage with a sheet.

“I…I know you’re quiet, Kris,” Asriel said softly. “But I gotta feeling this has been bothering you for a long time. You gotta tell me what’s wrong.”

"I don’t want it.” Kris’s voice was hoarse, but firm.

“Huh?”

“My soul.”

Asriel stood back. “That doesn’t make sense. Your soul is _you_. The culmination of your being…and…how can you even throw it out like that?”

Kris stood silently with an unreadable expression.

“Oh…” Asriel’s frown deepened with concern. “You don’t…like being yourself?” Kris’s head tilted—not a no, not a yes. Asriel’s bed creaked as he sat down.

“But…you gotta keep your soul in your body…I think,” Asriel said. “It’s better to be on the safe side.” Kris looked back to the soul in the cage.

“So…you got any…” Asriel’s words trailed off. “Uh, any new stuff you want to talk about, since I was away? Happy stuff?” For a second, Kris’s head tilted and their lips twitched.

“I have friends.” Kris said suddenly.

“Oh!” Asriel leaned forward. “You…want to talk about it?”

 _Eating chalk. Standing in front of the dark doorway. Walking on a path of strewn papers…_ _Four friends sitting down in a castle. Finally getting that cake._

“Kris?” Asriel stared at them in concern.

“Tomorrow. I will show you.”

“Show me what, Kris?”

“Tomorrow…let’s go to the Dark World.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment, either here or on the author's [Tumblr](https://argentdandelion.tumblr.com/).


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